


Hearts Still Beating

by saturnmeetsmercury (jarofhearts)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - The Walking Dead Fusion, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Gen, Implied Relationships, Survival, Team as Family, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 12:37:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9182143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jarofhearts/pseuds/saturnmeetsmercury
Summary: Pietro really wishes his foot wasn't injured. Clint finds two kids in trouble and decides to help. Natasha takes charge and brings everyone home. And Wanda isn't sure if those people and what they offer are for real.But even though the world has fallen into chaos and is full of the Undead, not everyone thinks that it should be every man for himself.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for a privately held Secret Santa and I decided to post it here as well. It's pretty much worldbuilding and character introductions, but I loved writing it and am tempted to explore more of this, because I really have a thing for Zombie AUs.
> 
> Two of the questions asked in this are borrowed from Rick Grimes, and in my head this takes place in the same universe as The Walking Dead. The title is taken from the recent mid-season finale. I hope you enjoy! :)

He should have known that this was a terrible idea that could possibly get them both killed.

But there’d been a point to what Wanda had said - there always was, Pietro had to admit. And there was no arguing with her anyway when she hit that level of determination. So he had relented and had taken up watch over the barn door that was rattling rhythmically against its frame, now that the Walkers were aware that there was someone outside.

Apart from that it was quiet, the afternoon sun warming the air and making it almost pleasant to be outside despite the chill of autumn nipping at them. Or, Pietro supposed, quiet for city people. A breeze was blowing through the nearby pine trees, and there were the flapping sounds of birds’ wings from time to time, hard to hear over the rattling of the door. A bird of prey was circling way overhead, but he didn’t spare it more than a glance, eyes fixed on the worn barn door that looked too fragile for his liking.

<“Wanda, you need to hurry,”> he raised his voice just enough so that his sister should hear him from the old jeep she had climbed into through the broken window.

Normally, that would have been his job. If worst came to worst, she could have started running first, and he would have caught up with her - but ever since he had almost broken his foot nearly two weeks ago, things were different. It still slowed him down, and now Wanda would be the faster runner between the two of them, and he the one who’d need the head start.

Pietro  _ hated  _ this.

<“Almost got it,”> came the muffled reply from inside, and with a dry, rattling crash the door of the barn burst open.

<“ _ Shit _ ! Out, Wanda, get out!”> Pietro shouted, watching with dread as the first of the Walkers spilled out into the sunlight, bloodied and rotten. And it wasn’t just four or five as they had hoped.

Wanda appeared in the jeep’s window in the blink of an eye. <“Go,  _ go _ , I’ll be right behind you!”>

For a change, Pietro didn’t try to argue with her. His foot stung when he took off as fast as he could, off the abandoned farm’s perimeter, throwing a glance back over his shoulder. There had to be ten, twelve Walkers staggering towards his twin, but Wanda had, as promised, already climbed out through the jeep’s window again and came after him just before the first Walker reached her.

They had lost the last firearm they’d had about half a month ago, so there was no way of thinning them out from afar. And as long as Pietro’s foot wasn’t healed, there was the unspoken agreement between them that to take on anywhere near this number was too much, too dangerous, for both of them. And normally they should be able to outrun them - but his busted foot was slowing him down in a way that made Pietro’s heart pound painfully hard in his chest.

Wanda had reached him just beyond the borders of the farm, her hand slipping into his seamlessly, supporting, tugging him along. Pietro risked another look over his shoulder, even while she admonished, <“Don’t, just run!”>

<“We can’t -”> Pietro started but shut up about it because it was no use. He  _ did  _ need his air for running. Because they might be faster than the Walkers despite his hobble, but the Walkers wouldn’t need to catch their breath eventually. They could go forever.

So they had to lose them somehow.

Without a word, they turned right and headed for the pine trees growing behind the farm, navigating almost seamlessly, hindered only by his injury that made him falter sometimes, made him have to grit his teeth hard to keep them going.

Half a mile, then maybe they’d have lost them through the curtain of trees and they could slow down. Just half a mile -

When they reached the treeline, Pietro looked over his shoulder again - only once more, he told himself,  _ needing  _ to check - just in time to hear the whipping sound of something splitting the air, and to see the corresponding image of the fastest Walker crumbling to the ground with an arrow in its skull.

His brain needed a second to catch up with what that even meant. Long enough for the second Walker to fall, and the third as well, by arrows with incredible accuracy.

“I’m gonna say it now before any misunderstandings,” a voice calling from somewhere up to their right made them both jerk in surprise, “I’m not gonna shoot you, or rob you, or any of the sort, so you don’t have to keep running.”

While the stranger spoke, three more Walkers piled up almost neatly on top of the others, three more arrows piercing through their skulls.

Pietro, breathing harshly, exchanged an instinctive glance with Wanda, his fingers tightening around her hand.

They both knew they couldn’t outrun the guy, whoever he was. They could ignore him and try to get away anyway while he was still shooting down the Walkers - but they were out of food. They were out of  _ everything _ . And winter in these parts came fast and hard.

“Aw, damn it,” they heard the man mutter without any heat when only one of the Walkers was left, stumbling around the pile of dead bodies, uncaring, arms still stretched out towards them. A muffled thud came from their right, and Wanda and Pietro had just pulled out their knives when the shooter came into view. He strolled out of the treeline almost casually, a long knife in hand, and plunged it into the Walker’s brain without blinking.

“Alright! Now that we’ve - woah, hi, you know you don’t need that for me, right?” he raised his hands placatingly when he turned back towards them, seeing them both with their knives pointed at him. “I’ll put that away, okay? Easy.” And he slowly sheathed his long knife again, eyes flickering calmly from Wanda to Pietro.

The guy had a quiver full of arrows at his back, and a medieval bow slung over his shoulder. That was the first thing Pietro registered, and it took his brain a second to move on from it. The man was maybe in his mid thirties, with dirty blond hair and a clean shaved face, wearing a pair of dark jeans, a hoodie and a jacket on top, all of which didn’t match the bow and arrow  _ at all _ .

“Hi,” he offered, giving them both an open, wry smile, “I’m Clint.”

 

***

 

The kids looked spooked enough that Clint decided to keep his hands up and just wait for both of them to come around. He didn’t blame them - not in the world they were all living in now, even though Clint was fully aware that he had a much, much better deal than most.

“What do you want from us?” the girl finally spoke up, voice wary and tinged with an Eastern European accent. Clint’s eyebrows shot up and he let out a soft, huffed laugh.

“I don’t want anything from you. I’m going to collect my arrows again if you don’t mind, okay?”

They exchanged another brief glance, and finally the knives leveled at him lowered a little. So Clint lowered his hands as well and, after another moment, turned to start plucking the arrows out of the Walkers’ heads. He immediately saw that two were unusable, but the rest he slid back into the quiver.

“Where did all these come from anyway? The barn?”

He didn’t get a reply immediately, but Clint hadn’t expected that. He simply kept working until, finally, the young man answered.

“They kept pushing against the doors. The bolt must have splintered.”

Clint hummed in reply. “What were you doing there anyway? Sorry, place has been cleared of supplies ages ago.”

Again it took a few moments, and when Clint turned back towards them, done collecting his remaining arrows, he could see them both locked in something like a staring contest, as if they could communicate telepathically.

Eventually the girl - young woman? Clint wasn’t entirely sure about their ages - let out a small sigh and replied.

“There was a muesli bar on the ground by the back seat of the jeep.”

Clint felt his expression slip into one of sympathy, and he couldn’t keep his gaze from flickering over them both. They sure looked thin enough under the layers of clothes, now that he looked for it.

“You’re hungry, huh?” His voice wasn’t too soft, but understanding, and Clint was pretty sure it was that that kept them from getting defensive again. The girl didn’t say anything, and the guy just shrugged.

Clint let out a sigh. He could pretend now to think about what to do with them, but what was the point? He had always been bad at that anyway.

“Okay, look,” he started, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m out hunting game, and I’m going to meet up with two others soon. If you’re prepared to answer some simple questions, you could come with us to our community. I know this sounds too easy, and if you decide not to trust me, no hard feelings. The offer’s there though, and for what it’s worth, I swear there’s no hidden agenda.”

Only his knowledge that out here, they would have at most two more months to find something to settle for winter, and Clint didn’t have too much faith in that.

For a moment they both stared at him before exchanging another one of those long glances. Their faces were hard to read, but they didn’t seem to dismiss the idea immediately. Their level of silent communication made him wonder what they were - lovers, friends, family? But it was none of his business, so he wasn’t going to ask.

Eventually the guy turned back to him and asked, “What are the questions?”

“First,” Clint replied immediately, giving them a wry grin, “the easy stuff. What are your names?”

They almost looked a little contrite, as if realizing that they never offered them to the guy who had gotten them out of a tight spot even after he had given them his.

“Wanda,” the girl said first, followed by a slightly more reluctant, “Pietro,” from the guy.

“What brings you here?” was Clint’s next question, but this one seemed easier for the two to answer.

“We’ve been moving for months,” Wanda said, unafraid to hold Clint’s gaze and probably study him in return. “Just away from the cities.”

He nodded again, a sound of understanding rumbling in his throat. The biggest hoards of Walkers were still in the most populated areas: the biggest cities on the east and west coast. The further you got away from them, the number of Walkers decreased dramatically - but so did the supplies remaining from Before.

After a long moment, Wanda added, eyes wary, “We were hoping -  _ thinking _ maybe others had the same idea.”

“Others definitely did,” Clint returned, finally uncrossing his arms. “We can help you. Two more questions: how many Walkers have you killed?”

There was a bit of surprise on both their faces and they exchanged glances again. But it looked like it was more to seek information from one another than out of wariness.

This time it was Pietro who answered. “We don’t know. Maybe… twenty, between the two of us…?”

Clint accepted the answer with another nod. They didn’t  _ look _ like fighters, but they had to be - the number indicated as much, and anyone who survived outside of communities as long as they did  _ had _ to fight to stay alive sooner or later.

Which brought him to his final question.

“And how many people have you killed?”

He could see how Pietro’s expression hardened while Wanda’s face was unmoving.

“Three,” he said without hesitation and added without being prompted, “One was an accident. The other two attacked Wanda.”

That, Clint could accept without even blinking. He didn’t ask for details, because he had yet to meet someone who hadn’t had to fight to protect their loved ones, and not just from Walkers. The world really had gone to shit, but it was the only one they had.

“If you come with me,” he offered the two, “we’ll bring you to our community, and you can stay over the winter, or however long you choose. Your choice.”

With that, he gave them a nod, turned, and started walking further into the forest. It was getting late, and he had to get back. Either they’d follow, or they wouldn’t.

It took a few seconds, and then there were the soft sounds of rustling clothes and soft footfalls behind him.

Clint smiled.

 

***

 

“You’re fucking  _ kidding  _ me.”

Natasha looked up at Bucky’s growl, unalarmed because he wasn’t either, and spotted the reason for his reaction immediately.

“Shut it, Barnes,” Clint called back from the other side of the small clearing, the two young people behind him stopping at the treeline, wariness on their faces.

Natasha suppressed a sigh and got to her feet. “I’m going to stop you right there, I’m not in the mood for your bickering. Clint, since you don’t have anything else, you can carry the deer; we’ll take the rabbits. You two can come closer, we’re not going to bite. I’m Natasha, this is Bucky,” she introduced them, no-nonsense but taking care to keep her voice warm. “Your names?”

“Tasha -” Bucky began, but one glance from her made him fall silent. She  _ knew  _ what his problem was. They were overpopulated as it was, at least considering what they had calculated as comfortable for the winter, at least for this year with everything still a work in progress. But Steve wasn’t going to turn them away, not if they had answered the questions, and Clint wouldn’t have brought them here if he didn’t trust what they said. And there would be a way for them to contribute, it was only a matter of talking to them and figuring it out.

“Come on,” Clint spoke up again now, turned back towards the two of them with the deer already slung over his shoulders. “It’s fine, really. They’re my family, even that grump over there.”

“Fuck off,” Bucky threw back, but there wasn’t any heat in it. Natasha allowed the corners of her mouth to twitch, and finally the girl squared her shoulders and took a step closer.

“Wanda,” she introduced herself before glancing over her shoulder at her companion, “and Pietro. We’ll leave again, if that’s what you want, we just need a week or two.”

She didn’t say for what, and Pietro still watched them warily, but Natasha shook her head. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. The first thing we should do is to get back home. We need to get a move on if we want to get there before it gets dark.”

Since no one here seemed to want that, they set out with Bucky taking the lead and Clint falling behind to take up the rear, bracketing the two newcomers between them. After exchanging a long glance with Clint, Natasha headed to the front, falling into step next to Bucky as they made their way through the forest.

She only had to wait a few seconds until Bucky took the wordless invitation.

“His foot’s busted,” he murmured just loud enough for Natasha to hear him. Of course she had seen it too, the moment they had set out, no matter how much Pietro tried to hide it while walking.

She hummed quietly. “Could heal up again. Let Helen have a look at it when we’re back.”

Bucky didn’t say anything for a few moments, and Natasha nudged him lightly with her elbow, giving him a small smile. “I know we’re a lot already, but give them a chance. Clint’s recruits always turned out well, didn’t they?”

This time Bucky only gave her a look, so Natasha smirked back at him. “Come on. Thor, Kate - me.”

“You don’t count,” Bucky objected immediately, ducking his head a little, and Natasha felt the smile on her face turn softer. Maybe not. Not after they had gone through hell at the initial breakout together, Bucky desperate to get back to New York, back to Steve, and losing each other after four months. Almost a year later she had met this guy under less than ideal circumstances, who had taken her back to his team - and Natasha couldn’t deny that the surprise to find Bucky there had been one of the best in her life.

“Point still stands.” She raised her eyebrows at him, a private smile still on her lips. “He’s got a pretty damn good record for picking them.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but the soft, barely audible sigh told Natasha all she needed to know.

They didn’t make good time on their way back, having to be considerate of Pietro’s injury, at least compared to how long it usually took them. But no one brought it up, and they reached the gates just after the sun had set below the horizon and a chill was spreading over the land. The wind had picked up and it was getting uncomfortably cold, the first signs of approaching winter.

Natasha kept an eye on Wanda and Pietro as the gates opened for them and they were let inside, Bucky and Sam taking a moment to banter good-naturedly. She saw surprise cross their features first, before looks of badly concealed wonder appeared on their faces, and something like pride bloomed in Natasha’s chest.

The home they had built was settled around what used to be a big farm. Three houses, stable, barn and workshop were grouped near the bed of a small river, trees that were colorful at this time of year littering the area. They had worked hard on a wooden fence at first to keep the few Walkers out that stumbled around up here, fortifying it over time with whatever they could. Now it was a wall that could keep out more than just Walkers.

Natasha knew what they saw while they made their way into the small settlement. There were people out and about, raised beds and large plant tubs, the sounds of a flock of geese nearby. A whole family of Alaskan Malamutes was out to play, two of the younger ones already jumping around Clint’s legs to greet him enthusiastically, while Scott and Cassie were busy bringing the horses from the paddock into the stables.

They had started out with little when they had first come here, had captured animals that used to be domestic but had been half wild when they had found them. Now there were five horses occupying the stables again, their herd of sheep and flock of geese were growing, and they even had three cows to call their own now. If they were lucky, they’d find a bull too before winter truly fell.

It wasn’t perfect, and winter was going to be hard on all of them, but it was home. And it was a hell of a lot better than what almost anyone else had these days.

When a small shadow came trotting towards her from the barn, a smile spread on Natasha’s face, and she bent down to pick the black cat up into her arms without hesitation. Liho was the only animal here that had found them, the one that had chosen Natasha specifically to adopt him, and after a lot of disbelief on her part, she hadn’t seen a reason to deny him.

“Hi, sweetheart,” she murmured and pressed a kiss to the purring kitten’s head.

After all, in the world they were living in, she had learned that you better take all the love you could find, wherever you found it, and to hold onto it with everything you had.

 

***

 

Wanda had tried not to get her hopes up ever since Clint had told them that he had a community, and that they could stay however long they wanted. Trust was so easily exploited, and they had learned that lesson in all the hard ways.

But with Pietro’s injury and the approaching winter, they had decided to take a leap one more time - and now that she watched another slightly older, dark-skinned man relieve Clint of the deer so that he could properly greet the half-grown puppies at his feet, she tried to convince herself that this was real at all, that this wasn’t all some beautiful facade to hide something terrible.

“Come on.”

Bucky had appeared next to them again before Wanda had any chance to say anything to Pietro, and he nodded towards the biggest house. His rifle with the silencer was gone, and he sounded not nearly as gruff as he had on that clearing, as if just coming back here had softened him up a bit.

Wanda exchanged a brief glance with her brother, her hand itching to reach for his. She could see that he was still just as wary, even more so than her, and so she gave him a subtle, barely perceptible nod.

On their way they passed an actual garden, its patches mostly empty and looking like they had already been harvested. The house Bucky led them into was an almost charming stone building, the interior rustic, judging by the hall and stairs. Further back there was a door half open through which light and two voices reached them, and once Bucky knocked and opened the door wider, warmth spilled out as well.

There was a fire going in the fireplace of what must have been the living room, and two men were in the middle of a talk, or a discussion, one tall, blond and with ridiculously wide shoulders, the other smaller, slimmer, dark-haired and older. Wanda was close enough to catch them both looking up and to see the way a smile spread on the blond man’s face.

“Hey Buck. Did you - oh. Hi.”

“Clint picked them up,” Bucky said by way of greeting, shaking his dark hair out of his face when he stepped into the room and tugging his dark blue pea coat off. Wanda expected some sort of explanation to follow, but there wasn’t any, only the dark-haired guy clicking his tongue.

“Right-o. I’ll leave you to the questions, but I’m on this, Cap, you can’t stop me.”

“Stop  _ calling  _ me that,” the other man returned in what sounded like a weary, worn complaint, but the guy only saluted sloppily and passed Wanda and Pietro on his way out.

Wanda tried to stamp down on the sudden envy, the sudden urge to  _ belong _ , as strong as it hadn’t been in a long, long time. She always had Pietro, and that was enough, he was  _ home _ , but these people here looked like a unit that suddenly made her long for  _ people  _ again.

“Come in, sit down if you want,” the blond guy addressed them now, one hand gesturing to the two sofas by the fireplace. “Bucky, you too, you’re not going to make this easier by hovering,” he added without even having to look over his shoulder to see that Bucky had taken up a spot by the big crossbar bay window.

Wanda almost wanted to laugh at the look Bucky shot the other man and bit down around a sudden smile.

“Fine,  _ Captain _ ,” came Bucky’s reply, and when he sat down in the corner of one sofa, there was a  _ smirk  _ on his face.

“Oh Christ. It’s Steve,  _ please _ ,” the guy turned towards Wanda and Pietro with this unguarded, long-suffering expression and gestured to the sofa again. When she glanced over at her twin to see if he wanted to follow the request, she saw the corners of his mouth twitching.

And just like that, Wanda knew they were going to stay.


End file.
